So, what's newsworthy in the soop camp? Ahem! Rory, the feral cat of uncertain parentage, is lying at my feet and is fast asleep. Today, possibly for the very first time in his nomadic life, he used a cat litter tray, to which I had introduced him yesterday afternoon. We heaped praise on him. He seemed awfully pleased with himself - rolled over on his back, waving his paws in the air, just like a wee kitten. He sat beside me as I did the ironing. He then helped mr soop in the garden. He now "owns" a favourite low stool from which he keeps half an eye on what's happening in the house. His companionship is a bonus. Our own black cat died just before we came to Scotland. This black cat, who first appeared in our garden on a snowy day last winter, was wild at heart, and exceedingly malnourished. It is hard to believe that he is the same cat. 